


The Mrs Hudson Conspiracy

by beforeclocks



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-02-14
Updated: 2012-02-14
Packaged: 2017-10-31 04:38:11
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 418
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/339959
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/beforeclocks/pseuds/beforeclocks
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>John confiscates Sherlock's violin. Slight crack.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Mrs Hudson Conspiracy

**Author's Note:**

> Written late 2010. Posted here to keep things together.

John knows what's coming before it does. He prepares himself by taking in a deep breath and sitting up a little taller. As if it'll make any difference.

"John? John!"

Sherlock comes striding out of his bedroom, staring into what feels like John's very brain.

"What've you done with it?"

"Now, Sherlock..."

"Don't play games with me, John; I'm far too busy right now."

John sighs and pushes himself out of the arm chair.

"I will give it back to you if you promise to stop playing it at three in the morning."

"But you don't understand – I need it to think!"

John takes a deep breath and counts to ten.

"I will give it-" he begins to repeat, but Sherlock cuts him off with a frustrated shout and arms thrown in the air.

"Stop being such a child, Sherlock," John mutters, settling back in his armchair and shaking open the newspaper. 

Five seconds later, Sherlock rips the paper from John's hands and glares at him.

"I will ignore the fact that you went into my bedroom uninvited if you just tell me where my violin is."

John holds his furious gaze for a few moments longer before sighing, "Mrs Hudson has it."

"Mrs Hudson. Of course."

Sherlock clasps his hands together in glee, as though this is another intriguing case to solve.

"No, no, no," John shakes his head. "She's not going to give it back to you either. We're both sick and tired of being woken at all sorts of ungodly hours every night."

But Sherlock has stopped listening – he's sitting on the couch with his head in his hands, most probably trying to work out where Mrs Hudson could've hidden it.

Suddenly, he sits upright, grinning.

"It'll be with my skull. She can't have that many hiding places. All I have to do is find one and then I've found the other!"

"Sherlock..." John warns, but to no avail; the detective has all ready twirled out of the room, and John can hear his footsteps descending the stairs.

John only has to wait for five minutes (pretending to read but actually straining to hear Sherlock tearing Mrs Hudson's flat apart, trying to work out if he's getting closer to his prize) before Sherlock's excited being bursts through their front door.

John rolls his eyes at the content look on Sherlock's face, as he cradles his skull and his violin in his arms. 

Sherlock, for once, doesn't notice. He's far too busy surreptitiously planning his revenge.


End file.
